


somewhere in the night

by alnima



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chance Meetings, First Dates, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis smiles at him back and hopes that Zayn can’t see the swirl of emotion inside him. He’s a stranger and Louis is catching feelings, go figure. Leave it to him to take in a stray and want to keep him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere in the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parisienneheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parisienneheart/gifts).



> Thank you to my beautiful wonderful lovely friend, Jen for looking over this for me and for boosting my ego. 
> 
> parisienneheart, I hope you enjoy this. I think I might like to come back to this fic sometime and give it a part two when the time allows.
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone. This work is my own and it is not featured on any other site, nor does anyone have my permission to repost it in its entirety. Recs are fine, links are fine, but copying and pasting is not fine. Thank you!!!**

Louis rubs tiredly at his face as he steps onto the nine o’clock train. It’s the last one of the night that’s going to get him home. It’s nearly empty for a Friday night, most people opting to stay in the city instead of leaving it. But Louis is tired and he’s ready to go home. Aside from Louis, there’s a man in the back, hood up over his head that’s pressed against the window, eyes closed already. Then there’s an elderly couple, hands held together as they smile at Louis.

He takes a seat away from them, closer to the sleeping man in the back and sighs, happy to be done with today. He puts his back against the window, feet dangling in the aisle and waits for the train to start moving.

It’s a long ride back home, nearly an hour and a half. He puts in his earphones and waits, foot tapping to the beat of the music.

Louis watches the elderly couple for a while, watches as they read a newspaper together, turning the pages idly before they get off three stops later. The old man holds his arm out for his wife and Louis smiles, enjoying the sight.

Once they’re gone his eyes drift back to the stranger in the back, his neck craned at an awkward angle that Louis knows he’s going to feel when he wakes up, the kind of angle that makes it difficult to move your head for at least a full day. Poor guy.

The train jolts and the man’s head lolls back, his hood coming down a bit and then Louis gets a clear view of his face. Shit. He’s attractive, like. Really fucking attractive. He’s half tempted to take his phone out and take a creeper shot, just so he can show it to Liam later and prove that he’s found the hottest man on the planet.

But he doesn't. Louis is not a creep. Instead he shuts his eyes and continues listening to his music in peace.

++

When the train stops the man is still sleeping, head turned so that his chin is resting on his shoulder. He stares at him and then at the open door. He feels the cool night air blowing in, his cheeks going cold. He’s torn on what he should do, if he should get out and make his way home, let the conductor or whoever wake the man. Or maybe he should wake him himself, let him know that they’ve reached the final stop and he’s about to be thrown off if he doesn’t wake.

Louis feels weird doing that. He doesn’t know what he should do. What would he want someone to do for him, he asks himself.

“Fuck,” he curses, moving away from the door and towards the man. He reaches out carefully, palm pressed against the man’s shoulder. He shakes him lightly, not wanting the man to jerk awake and punch him or something wild like that. “Hey, man. You gotta wake up.”

Louis sighs as he has to shake the man harder and he’s almost getting scared, worried about if the man has a pulse or not before he jumps awake, pressing back against the window as he stares at Louis with wide eyes. There’s a bit of drool on his shoulder, where his open mouth had been pressed against, and his hair is standing up in odd directions, something Louis doesn’t think is normal on the man.

“What’s going on?” He asks, voice hoarse. He rubs his hand against his mouth, cleaning up the drool as he looks around.

“This is the last stop, you’ve gotta get off the train. I figured I’d wake you before someone else did.”

“No,” the man says, shifting around in his seat to look out the window. “No. No, this can’t be. No. No. What stop is this?”

“East Brook,” Louis tells him and the man shakes his head harder, like he refuses to accept this information.

“I missed my stop,” he says, scrambling to gather his things. “No. No. Shit, I missed my stop. Oh fuck.”

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s not the end of the world.”

“When’s the next train. Do you know? Do you know when I can get on the next one?”

“Not until tomorrow,” Louis tells him and the guy’s face falls, like it’s the worst news he’s had all day. Louis feels bad. He feels like he told him something worse, not just that the train has stopped coming. “It won’t be back until the next morning, I’m afraid.”

“No, this can’t be happening,” The guy says, jumping up and moving swiftly out of the train. Louis follows behind him, worried about what he’s going to do.

The man is outside, standing next to the little building where people buy their tickets and reading the schedule on the side. He’s shaking his head and Louis can hear him as he chants no over and over again. He has his hands in his hair, shaking his head as he looks around. Louis thinks that he might cry, maybe. He looks so upset, like missing his stop is the same as losing his house or something like that.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, approaching him carefully. He knows that people are unpredictable and this guy could lash out, could try to fight Louis or something, like he’s the one who personally made sure that he missed his stop.

“I had to be somewhere. I had to be somewhere really important and I missed it. Fuck.”

“Okay, it’ll be alright. I promise.”

“Yeah, I just. I don’t know what to do. The next train doesn’t come until morning and I don’t know anyone out here and my phone, it’s dead. But there’s no one to come and get me. I’m—I missed my stop.”

Louis frowns. The more this guy talks the worse he feels for him. He wants to do something, wants to try and make things a little better.

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Zayn.”

“Alright, Zayn. I’m Louis. And I have an idea, okay? What if you come to my place for the night? You can stay there for the night, or at least until you can figure out something about what you’re going to do.”

Zayn takes a step back, looking at Louis like he’s out of his mind. And maybe he is. After all, he did just ask a stranger to spend the night at his place.

“I promise that I’m not a creep,” he adds, like that’ll help Zayn make his decision. “It’s only going to get colder out here and I just want to help you out. That’s all.”

Zayn stares at him for a few beats longer, glancing around the empty train station. The train is still parked on the tracks, the employees checking to make sure everyone is off. Soon Zayn won’t have anywhere to go and Louis’ not sure what he’s going to do if he says no, how he’ll feel comfortable going home for the night knowing that the poor guy is stuck at the station by himself.

“Okay,” Zayn says finally, nodding his head. “Yeah. Um. Okay. I’ll go with you.”

++

The walk to Louis’ place from the train station is fifteen minutes on a good day. Twenty if he drags his feet. He doesn’t intend on dragging his feet tonight. He can feel the temperature dropping, the cool autumn night coming out in full swing. It’s typical of the season, isn’t it, beautiful days and freezing nights?

Zayn hasn’t said much since they left the station, his head bowed as he walks next to Louis. There haven’t been any attempts at conversation and Louis hates it, hates how he can’t figure out a way to fill in the silence and make the walk less awkward.

“I hate to ask,” Zayn says, biting down on his lip in the dark, “but would it be possible for me to use your phone? I just need to make a quick call. I promise I won’t be long.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Louis says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it over.

Zayn mutters a silent thank you before he unlocks it and starts dialing numbers. Louis stares ahead, trying to give him the illusion of privacy as they continue their trek to his place.

“Hey, it’s me. Yeah, no, it’s me. No, I didn’t get a new number, I’m using a—uh, a friend’s phone. Yeah, I know. I know I promised to be there earlier. I know. I’m sorry, okay?—No, I missed my stop on the train. I—I fell asleep.”

Louis glances around, trying to find something to focus on besides this conversation. It doesn’t sound like it’s going well, judging by the shrill voice he hears coming through the other side.

“It wasn’t on purpose. I had a long day at work, I got on the train, closed my eyes and the next thing—No. No. I didn’t do it on purpose, okay? I’m sorry. Yeah. I know. Yeah. I’ll be there tomorrow. I will, I pro—“

Zayn pulls the phone away from his ear midsentence, shutting it off and handing it back to Louis. Whoever it was hung up on him. Louis has to bite down on his tongue to keep from asking invasive questions about it. He wants to know who that was and where he was supposed to be instead of here with him. But he doesn’t have any right to that information so he bites his tongue and hopes that he doesn’t accidentally ask.

“You could always take a cab, you know, if you really need to be somewhere,” Louis says instead.

“I don’t have the money for a cab,” Zayn tells him, shrugging. “It’s alright. Or, it’s not. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I know it’s not helpful, but you’re hardly the first person that this has happened to. And it sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it on your end besides wait. I don't know where you were supposed to get off at but like, cabs are pretty expensive anyway.”

“I was supposed to get off at Thompson Square.”

Louis whistles under his breath because that’s like, halfway between the city and where they’re at now, a cab ride would cost a fortune. “That’s a bit away, isn’t it?”

“Further than I can get to tonight, I guess. I still can’t believe I feel asleep.”

“It happens.”

“I know it does but like, I was out of it. I would have woken up in the morning if it hadn’t been for you.”

Louis shrugs because he’s been there, tired on the train and wanting so badly to just curl up and sleep, let the movements of the train lull him to sleep. The main difference is that he doesn’t, or rather that he always seems to find himself waking with every stop. Apparently Zayn doesn’t have that ability, or maybe he’s just that tired. Louis is not sure.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finds himself saying, offering Zayn a smile in the dark. He looks at Louis for a beat before nodding, his shoulders still drawn in a tight line, his muscles tense. He’s not comfortable with Louis, not fully. Louis doesn’t blame him.

++

Louis gets the door to his place open and immediately starts cleaning up, picking up dirty clothes and empty cups, laughing nervously when Zayn steps inside.

“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company.” His arms are full as he tries to subtly kick a pair of shoes out of the way. Or several pairs, he’s trying not to look at how many shoes are cluttered next to the couch. If he doesn’t look then Zayn won’t see them. “I’m going to um—make yourself at home.”

He turns and rushes out of the room, dropping the cups and clothes in his bedroom. He’ll clean them later. Maybe. If he can remember.

Back in the living room Louis smiles at Zayn, toeing out of his shoes and kicking them in the direction of the pile he just made.

“Are you hungry?” Louis asks and Zayn shakes his head. “You sure?”

“No. I mean yeah, I’m sure. I’m fine.”

“Alright, well if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to make something. Think I might heat up some of the roast I made the other night. Get a bit of potatoes going; maybe toss in some greens on the side. I just picked up some fresh bread from my friend’s bakery, should still be good,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows at Zayn. He doesn’t have any of this. He’s lying. Well, no. He has the bread, store bought but still. “Sure you don’t want something to eat?”

Zayn’s stomach growls, answering the question for him and Louis smiles, he knew he was hungry. Zayn’s cheeks pink up at the noise, his hands quickly coming to cover his body as he laughs nervously.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll have something, I guess.”

“Great because I don’t have any of that,” Louis admits, opening a cabinet and pulling out a can of soup. “I was just going to make this and a sandwich.”

Zayn laughs and he seems to relax a bit as he moves across the room, sitting down at Louis’ kitchen table. Louis considers it a win, to have made Zayn loosen up. He can only imagine how uncomfortable he feels and he doesn’t want that.

“So you live over by Thompson Square?” Louis asks as he pops open the can of soup, dumping it in a pot on the stove.

Zayn shakes his head. “No, I live in Oaktown.”

“Oaktown? That’s like, not even on the same rail line as Thompson. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do. My ex lives in Thompson. It’s my weekend with our son. She just moved and—I guess I didn’t look at the train schedule as well as I should have.”

“Oh shit,” Louis mutters, tossing the sandwiches down on the stovetop to brown. “I can call a friend, if you want me to. I can see if he’ll drive you out there. I mean, it’s for your son.”

Zayn waves him off, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. He’s sleeping anyway. I can get him in the morning. It’s okay. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure about that? I can help you get a ride, if you need to be there with him.”

Zayn shakes his head once more and Louis accepts it, because if Zayn’s content to spend the night here then that’s fine. He did offer him that.

“How old is he?” Louis asks instead, hoping that it’s not too late, that he can still engage Zayn in conversation.

“Isaiah? He’s four but he thinks that he’s eighteen.”

“Oh, he’s in that phase.”

“Yeah, definitely the bossiest little boy you’ve ever met. Already thinks he knows everything.”

“Well, the plus side is that he’ll probably tone it down on bossing you around. The down side is that he’ll never stop thinking he knows everything.”

Zayn laughs and nods, resting his elbows on Louis’ table as Louis grabs plates and bowls. He drops the sandwiches on the plates and then pours soup into the bowls, walking carefully towards the table to give Zayn his.

“Thanks,” Zayn mumbles, smiling at Louis. “You didn’t have to feed me.”

“I did,” Louis corrects. “I would have eaten and then felt awful because you were watching me. It would have ruined it all for me. Food tastes like shit when people are watching you and you know that they’re hungry.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is. I said it.”

“I guess you were right about people never leaving the ‘I’m right about everything’ phase.”

“Oh,” Louis hums, nodding. “It’s like that, is it? Well, dinner cancelled, Zayn.” He reaches out for Zayn’s plate, sliding it out of the front of him while Zayn laughs. Louis likes the sound of it, enjoys the way Zayn’s eyes shine and the skin around them wrinkles. Laughter looks good on him.

“Should I apologize so that I can have my canned soup and sandwich back?”

“No, I think dinner will taste lovely tonight with you watching. I’m going to enjoy it, I think. Two sandwiches might be a bit much, but I think I can manage.”

“You wouldn’t let me starve.”

“I think I might, actually.”

“You wouldn’t let me stay at the train station over night, I don’t really buy it.”

Louis sighs and nods. Yeah, that’s a fair observation on Zayn’s part. He slides the plate back over to Zayn, smiling at him before he bites into his sandwich, nearly moaning at the feeling of having food in his mouth after a long, stressful day.

“Tell me what you do, Zayn,” Louis says, mouth full of food. Zayn looks at him, spoon in his mouth, eyebrow cocked. “Like, as a job.”

“I work in construction downtown. We just wrapped up with fixing that bridge.”

“The one that got knocked down?”

“Yeah. It’s been months, I’ll be happy to do something else.”

“Maybe you can get them to fix all the pot holes, it’d be nice not to feel like I’m going to die on the bus when the driver goes over them.”

Zayn laughs. “Yeah, I’ll let them know that you asked. Right after I tell them that you make a delicious canned soup.”

“That’s my specialty. Anything with canned before it. You want some canned pineapple? I’ve got some in the fridge. I popped one open last night, thought I wanted to be healthy and decided against it.”

“You can’t put an open can in the fridge,” Zayn says, horrified.

“It’s in a bowl with plastic wrap over the top. It’s not a can. I’m not a complete idiot,” Louis says, laughing. “Did I not just tell you that my specialty is cans?”

“Ah, my mistake. I must have missed it in between worrying about your health.”

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment.”

Zayn smiles at him and nods, lifting his spoon once more to go back to eat. Louis watches him and smiles to himself, trying to hide it in his sandwich because he kind of likes this, having someone here with him at night, having someone to talk to. Maybe he has a bit of a crush…or something. Louis imagines it’s next to impossible not to have a crush on Zayn. He’s cute and charming and he’s eating Louis’ canned soup like it came straight out of a five-star restaurant.

++

Zayn helps Louis with the dishes after they eat, passing him the dirty dishes for Louis to clean. He sets them all in the rack to dry overnight, not wanting to bother with drying them at the moment. He’ll put them away in the morning.

“Are you tired?” Louis asks, shutting the water off and turning to face Zayn. He tries not to look hopeful, tries not to look like he wants Zayn to stay awake with him for a little while longer.

Zayn shakes his head, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Not really. Kind of lost the ability to sleep since I took a nap on the train.”

“Good,” Louis says and then immediately winces. “I didn’t mean like good to know you’re not tired. I just meant, I usually stay up a bit, watch a movie and stuff. If that’s alright.”

“It’s your house.”

“Living room is your bedroom tonight, so it’d be rude to take it over.” Zayn smiles at that and Louis grins, satisfied with himself. “Alright, well, let’s go.”

Zayn follows him into the next room and stands, hands at his sides as he looks around Louis’ tiny house. He doesn’t have much here, the walls bare, free of decorations except for a few movie posters that he nabbed from his old bedroom at his mom’s. He has a few superhero figurines that Zayn stares at longer than necessary, so Louis hopes he’s gauging Zayn’s taste in movies correctly when he puts his Iron Man DVD into the player. He doesn’t care how many times he’s seen it, it’s a classic and he’ll watch it until the disc breaks.

Zayn doesn’t sit on the couch until Louis does, following his movements and taking a seat at the other end. He looks stiff again, uncomfortable. Louis watches him as he skips through the previews to get to the main menu, taking Zayn in. His arms are folded over his chest, shoes still on, and his eyes are trained solely on the television.

“You can relax you know. Make yourself comfortable,” Louis tells him, hitting play.

“I am relaxed.”

“You are not. Your shoes are still on!”

“So? What does that have to do with being comfortable?”

“Everything, you look like you’re dropping by for a second, just picking something up and then you’ll be on your way.” Zayn rolls his eyes and kicks his shoes off, sending them scattering across the floor. Louis smiles at him, nodding his head in satisfaction. “Right, now that that’s sorted, you alright with this movie?”

“Iron Man? Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? Just fine? It’s not amazing?”

“I kind of like the second one better, but yeah. It’s a good movie.”

Louis frowns, trying not to pull too much of a face. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that in my house, because it’s cold outside and you need a place to sleep for the night. So yeah, I didn’t hear you say that. I actually didn’t hear anything.”

Zayn smirks, the corner of his lip lifted in amusement. “Is he your favorite avenger, then?”

“Is there any other avenger?”

“I know of like the Hulk,” Zayn admits and Louis can’t even hide the distaste from his expression. “He’s cool. Well, not really cool. He’s kind of awkward as Bruce but then he turns into the Hulk, it’s like, like you’re getting two people. Why are you making that face? Do you not like him or something?”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, you know, it’s Bruce. Your favorite avenger is Bruce Banner.”

“And?”

“And nothing, someone has to love him so it might as well be you, I suppose. Good. He deserves a fan or two. Is he your son’s favorite?”

“No, he likes Thor, actually. And who is your favorite? Tony Stark?”

“Like I said earlier, is there any other avenger besides Tony Stark?”

“Yeah, there’s quite a few actually.”

Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “Numbers wise, maybe, but Tony’s the only one that matters. I won’t hear otherwise, honestly. I’ll throw you out on the street. You’ll be sleeping on a park bench if you try and say anything against Tony.”

The smile on Zayn’s face is so wide that Louis is worried about how badly his cheeks hurt, because they must, he’s grinning at Louis like he created the world, like he strung the stars up in the sky, not like he just went on a rant about not wanting to hear Tony Stark hate in his house.

Louis feels a tingle in his stomach, a tiny flutter that makes his cheeks heat up. He snaps his attention away from Zayn in time to see the humvee in front of Tony’s blow up. Zayn’s eyes stay trained on him for a little longer, a ghost of a smile on his face, content to watch Louis instead of the movie.

++

The movie is three quarters of the way through when Louis notices that Zayn is nodding off, his head dropping before lolling to the side, resting there before he jerks awake, blinking at the television for a few seconds before the process starts all over again.

Louis watches him do it for several minutes, biting back a laugh as Zayn fights off sleep. He shakes his head, wondering what Zayn does with his time to make him so tired. First he sleeps on the train, so heavily that he misses his stop, and now he’s sleeping through a movie. He shakes his head as he reaches for the remote, turning the television off. Zayn startles awake, blinking rapidly as he looks around the room, his eyes settling on Louis.

Louis doesn’t say anything to him, just gets up from the couch and moves to grab things from the linen closet down the hall. He grabs blankets, a pillow and a towel, holding them under his arm as he rushes to his room for a pair of pajamas. It might be a bit much, to assume that Zayn would want to wear a strangers clothing to bed, but it’s better than the jeans he’s got on now.

“I’m sorry that I don’t have a spare bed for you,” Louis says, setting the things down carefully on the table. “I don’t usually have anyone over and if I do then they make themselves comfortable in bed. But I figure you don’t want to sleep next to me.”

“It’s alright,” Zayn mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. “Better than against a brick wall, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Louis laughs. “It’s a nice couch, though. Really comfortable. I usually crash on it after I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah, so. You’re welcome to anything. I’ve brought you a towel in case you want to shower. You can watch TV, get something to eat, whatever you want. Oh wait, hold on,” he says, rushing out of the room. He yanks his phone charger out of the wall and then rushes back to Zayn, tossing it to him. “You said your phone was dead. You can use that, I figure you’ll need a charged phone to get your son tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Louis. I really appreciate it,” Zayn says and the smile on his face is so genuine that it sends tingles up Louis’ spine. Louis smiles at him back and hopes that Zayn can’t see the swirl of emotion inside him. He’s a stranger and Louis is catching feelings, go figure. Leave it to him to take in a stray and want to keep him.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning, Zayn.”

“Night, Louis,” Zayn mumbles to Louis' retreating figure.

He gets ready for bed in a rush, hurrying to free the bathroom for Zayn. He gets into bed with a tired sigh, resting his head on the pillow and praying that he’s not going to be robbed throughout the night.

++

The following morning Louis nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Zayn sitting on his couch. He’s already awake, thumbing through his phone. Louis had forgotten he was there, forgotten that he invited a stranger to spend the night in his place.

“Have you eaten?” Louis asks and Zayn looks up, shaking his head. His hair is wet and he’s wearing the clothes that he was in yesterday. Bit counter productive, to shower and then put on dirty clothes. But whatever, Louis is not going to judge him. “Train leaves at ten, so we’ve got enough time for a quick breakfast before we walk to the train.”

“Okay yeah. You don’t have to walk me, though. I think I remember how to get back.”

Louis snorts, shaking his head. “The bit about you thinking you remember is why I’m going to walk you. And it’s fine, I don’t have anything else to do today.”

Zayn nods, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at Louis. Louis wonders if he wore his clothes to bed or if he braved it in Louis’ sweatpants and shirt. There are no signs telling him that he did, they’re neatly folded and set on the couch, along with the blankets he carried out.

“So are we eating breakfast out of a can?” Zayn asks finally, forcing Louis out of his thoughts.

“No, we’re going to brave it and eat old bakery food.”

“Old bakery food?”

“Yeah, my friend has a bakery. He worries that I don’t eat so he brings me some of the stuff that’s perfectly good but they’re supposed to throw out. I don’t know; bakeries have weird rules. But it works out for me, because I get to have chocolate croissants for breakfast without having to pay for them,” Louis says, grinning as he holds up the bag that Harry gave him.

Zayn laughs at him, reaching out to take it while Louis gets plates down. “If you want coffee or something then um…well, I don’t have any. I’ve got tea and milk and water, those are your options.”

“I’m fine,” Zayn assures him and Louis shrugs, getting to work on making his tea. There’s thirty minutes before they have to leave, thirty minutes left with Zayn. He’s not sure how he feels about it. It’s only been a night, one night that equates to several hours but he likes having him around.

Maybe that means he’s lonely, that he’d get attached to a stranger so quickly. He’s not sure but he’s not going to think about it yet, he hasn’t even had his tea or woken up properly. So he shoves those thoughts aside and smiles at Zayn, kettle held under the water as he fills it.

++

Louis glares at the train station as they approach it, glares at it for not being further away. There’s five minutes until the train is set to come and Louis knows that this is it, this is goodbye and he hates the dread that’s looming around inside of him, making him frown down at the concrete as they stop.

Zayn’s got his hands shoved into his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip as he watches Louis. “Thanks for taking me in,” he says and Louis shrugs. “No, I know that you keep saying it’s not a big deal, but it means a lot to me. I wouldn’t have known what to do last night if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well, I’m happy to have helped. Think I’ve earned my Jesus points for a month, now I can go back to wreaking havoc and causing mayhem.”

Zayn laughs, smiling at Louis softly. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to do. Maybe you’ll find a lost puppy.”

“That’d be nice, actually.”

“And puppies can eat out of cans, so you’d be a match made in heaven.”

“Alright,” Louis says, swatting at Zayn. “No making fun of me. I’m your lifesaver, that means that you’re not allowed.”

“When you put it like that, how can I resist,” Zayn jokes and Louis smiles.

They’re both stalling; he can feel it. Or maybe he just wants to feel it, he’s not sure anymore. He feels a bit like an idiot, in an odd sort of way that he can’t explain. Maybe he could grab Zayn now and run, take him back to his place and lock him up for a while longer. No. That’s kidnapping, or something like that and Zayn has a little boy waiting for him somewhere.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Louis says because he can feel a pout coming on, like he might stomp his feet and demand that Zayn not go anywhere. And he’s not going to embarrass himself. He’s absolutely not going to.

“Guess you will,” Zayn says.

They smile at each other for a few seconds before Louis breathes out, offering Zayn a wave. He turns to go, not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward than what it already is. He shakes his head as he goes because fuck, Zayn is hot and he’s leaving without asking for Louis’ number or saying that he had a great time. They pretty much dated for a night, dinner and a movie and a sleepover. Louis let him stay at his place and Zayn’s not even going to ask him out again?

Whatever it’s fine.

Louis looks over his shoulder and smiles when he sees Zayn still watching him. He jumps when he realizes that he’s been caught, quickly glancing up towards the sky and looking around, spinning on his feet to stare in every direction that he can.

Good, Louis thinks, he hopes that Zayn’s thinking about what he’ll be missing.

++

“What do you mean when you say that you had a hot guy spend the night at your place?” Harry asks, frowning at him as he sets a mug of hot chocolate down in front of Louis.

It’s three days later and Louis is just finally seeing someone else for the first time. He tried to talk about it at work but he doesn’t really like anyone there, thinks they’re all a bunch of idiots that don’t deserve to hear about his social life.

But Harry, he’s his friend and he’s running out of chocolate croissants to eat, so he figures that maybe he’ll tell him and get a little bit extra this week. He’d really like some cookies and maybe a bagel or two, that’d be nice of Harry, to give him more food.

“I mean that a really hot guy spent the night on my couch.”

“On your couch?”

“Yeah.”

“So you didn’t hook up with him, this was like…a friend?”

“A stranger.”

Harry gasps, nearly dropping his tray of food. He looks scared and appalled and worried all at once, right before his eyes flash with anger and he slams the cookie tray on the counter. “Louis, how old are you? You can’t just, invite strangers to stay at your place. Are you trying to get killed?”

“He was alone, missed his stop and I wasn’t just going to let him sleep outside. And it’s over with. He’s already slept at my place, it’s in the past, and we’re both alive. And I still have all my stuff.”

“How do you know? Have you checked?”

“Well, aside from missing some food that I made him, yeah. I checked my place. I’m not a complete fucking moron.”

Harry snorts, shoveling a few cookies in the bag that he’s giving Louis. Good. He’s earned those cookies after Harry’s comments. How old is he? Old enough that he can make his own decisions without Harry, his wannabe mother, butting in and trying to make him feel like he’s done something wrong.

“So he didn’t take your stuff, that’s good. Have you seen him since then?”

Louis shakes his head. He doesn’t know how he could. They don’t live on the same rail line. All he knows is that he does construction in the city and gets his son on the weekends – every other weekend, maybe – but that’s hardly enough to go on. Although, he does know the area he lives in, he could easily just…he doesn’t know, pop in and knock on every single door until someone can point him in the direction of Zayn. If he’s not arrested before that.

“If you haven’t seen him since then, then why are you telling me about him?” Harry asks and Louis shrugs.

“Something to talk about, I guess,” he says, taking the bag that Harry holds over the counter. “I’m not really sure.”

Harry nods and doesn't look like he believes him. Louis doesn’t really care what he thinks. He takes his bag and leaves, pulling a muffin out and eating it on the walk home.

++

The thing of it is, Louis spends a lot of time thinking about Zayn. More time than he’d care to admit. More time than necessary, he thinks. More time than anyone should think about a stranger.

It’s not right away. He doesn’t think about him until he mentions him to Harry but then it’s all the time. He wonders if Zayn’s ex understood about him being late to get their son. What Zayn’s son might look like, if he’s a miniature version of him? Louis imagines so, a little human with jet-black hair and startling hazel eyes, lopsided grin with features that are more rounded out.

Mostly he wonders if Zayn thinks about him. If Zayn spends time imagining different scenarios that they’ll meet again under. On the train, or walking through the park during his lunch break to get to his favorite sandwich shop. Maybe they’ll meet by the lake, Louis’ legs dangling over the side of the pier as he listens to his music, trying to catch his breath.

Or maybe they won’t meet again at all. He’s not sure. He hopes, though. He hopes a lot, actually. And he’s not even sure why, why he spends so much time wishing for something that doesn’t make sense. It makes him feel dumb, like when he was a teenager and he’d lay in his bed at night, staring at the ceiling and imagining his name in neon lights, thousands of people screaming his name in the audience as he steps out on stage.

That didn’t happen for him, it was nothing more than a daydream. He’d always felt silly thinking about it, wishing and wanting it to happen.

That’s how he feels now. Silly and young, foolish for wanting something that’ll never happen. But then again, he’s never been realistic, always had his head in the clouds.

This’ll pass. He’s sure of it.

++

Louis is kicking rocks on his way to the train, his limbs tired and heavy as he goes, almost dragging himself. He’s so exhausted and he just wants to get home, wants to make himself some noodles before he lies down and forgets about the world. It’s Friday and he’s done. He doesn’t have to do anything or see anyone for two full days and he’s going to take full advantage of it.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite soup chef,” someone says and Louis frowns, glancing up at the sound of the voice. It seems vaguely familiar.

“Zayn, oh my god. Hey, what are you doing here?” Louis asks, his eyes going wide when they land on the other boy. He feels almost star-struck, like he’s just stumbled into his favorite celebrity and not the stranger who slept on his couch.

“I work here,” Zayn says and Louis frowns, glancing around. Oh. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Zayn’s wearing a hard hat and an orange vest, jeans on with thick boots on his feet. Come to think of it, Louis was wondering what that obnoxious hammering around was. He thought it was a headache.

“Right. Okay, I remember that. Well, I remember your job. I didn’t exactly know this particular street corner was your place of employment.”

“Street corner, right,” Zayn mumbles, wetting his lips as he nods, looking at Louis in amusement. “Are you going somewhere exciting?”

“Home. But you know how exciting that is.”

“I do, yeah.”

“Do you have to work much longer?” Louis asks because it’s like, nearly seven. Surely Zayn deserves to get off work.

“About another hour or so. I’m not sure. Sort of depends on what my boss decides, to be honest with you.”

“He sounds like an asshole,” Louis mutters and Zayn laughs, shrugging. Maybe he’s not that big of an asshole, though, since he’s letting Zayn talk to Louis instead of pouring cement in the sidewalk. So he’s like, half an asshole or something. Louis only likes him a little bit.

“He’s not that bad, just trying to make sure the job gets done when it’s supposed to. Leave it to us and we’ll take as long as we’d like.”

“I notice you’re taking your time on the pot hole issue.”

“Yeah, I am. It’s on the many list of things that I need to get done everything else on the list first and then we’re going to do the pot holes especially for you, have it done by Christmas, I’m sure.”

“Ah, a little birthday gift. I’d appreciate it. I nearly snapped my neck on the bus this morning. I was going to write a letter to the mayor but now that I’ve got you here I can pull out my list of complaints and read them off.”

“You’re going to do that now?”

“I am, yeah,” Louis says, pretending to dig into his pocket for his list. He doesn’t have a list. His only concern is the potholes but he’s very good at making things up when he needs to, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for him, if Zayn really wants to hear a list.

“What about tomorrow night? At dinner.”

“At what?”

“Dinner,” Zayn says, sliding his hand up and down his arm nervously, watching Louis carefully, waiting for…rejection, maybe? Confirmation that Louis has spent a full week dreaming up ways to run into this beautiful man again. “I figure that I owe you for feeding me, bathing me, giving me a place to sleep. So yeah, dinner. Tomorrow night. You can tell me your complaints then, if you’d like.”

Louis nods, mouth hung open. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Perfect.” Zayn smiles, looking back for a moment at where he should be working before he glances back at Louis, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it over. “Put your number in and I’ll send you details later, okay?”

Louis hands shake as he takes the phone from Zayn, quickly punching in the numbers. It feels like a dream. He’s going to pinch himself later, just to be sure. But right now he wants to enjoy this moment.

++

It’s not a dream. It’s definitely not a dream, Louis realizes as he waits outside of a restaurant far too nice for him to even be near. He shouldn’t be allowed within a one-mile radius of this place and Zayn brought him here. Oh god, the guy is obviously out of his mind.

Louis fed Zayn out of a can and he’s taking him to a place that costs way too much money a plate. He’s never going to be able to keep up with this, not really. They’ll constantly owe each other if this is how Zayn plays.

On the plus side, though, it means more dates. So should Louis really be complaining? Probably not.

“You look nice.”

Louis turns to see Zayn, who looks far nicer. Not like he’s going to an award show or anything, but he just looks—nicer. Louis likes it. He likes seeing all these different sides of him, the working side of him with the boots and jeans, the casual side of the hoodie and jeans he wore on the train, and now this, nice sweater paired with lighter colored pants.

“I could definitely say the same about you, actually,” Louis says, smiling at Zayn. “Although not surprising now that I know you’re taking me to the nicest place I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at.”

“It’s not that nice,” Zayn laughs, reaching around Louis to hold the door open. “Come on, go inside.”

“It’s that nice when you’re used to eating out of cans,” Louis mumbles and then smiles at the hostess, letting Zayn take care of everything else. He tugs at his shirt nervously, glancing around at the dim lights and photography on the walls, and then at the other people sat in wooden chairs. None of them pay him any mind so he finds himself relaxing slightly, releasing a deep breath as they stop at a table in the back.

“Still think it’s too nice?”

“I know it’s too nice,” Louis mutters, flipping open the menu defiantly, like he’s being held here against his will. He’s not. Not at all. But his nerves are getting the best of him. Luckily Zayn just smiles at him, shaking his head before he does the same thing.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of food you liked. I thought about asking but then I figured you were probably pretty easy to please, judging by how you fed me.”

“Hey, that was a delicious meal.”

“It was,” Zayn agrees, nodding. “Which is why I brought you here. It looks nice, I know, but they make simple food. Sandwiches, soups, burgers, salads, stuff like that. Nothing too fancy so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, I do like soup,” Louis mumbles, closing the menu since he knows what he’s going to get. Whatever the soup of the day is. He fed Zayn soup and now Zayn is feeding him soup, it makes them even. It means if they go out again there won’t be a debt between them, it’ll be nothing more than because they both want it, because they like spending time together. “So how did things go for you last weekend, was your son mad at you?”

“I don’t even think he noticed, to be honest with you. He’s just happy to see me.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“He did ask questions though, about why I didn’t get him.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I told him that I fell asleep on the train, but luckily Daddy had a friend that was there to wake him up and it was really late so I didn’t want to bother him and I had to wait until morning for the next train.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s young enough that he was accepting of that answer. If my mom said something to me like that I’d—well, I’m not sure what I’d do, probably worry about why she’s sleeping and not waking up, especially on something as noisy as the train.”

“Yeah, I’m very lucky,” Zayn mumbles. He pauses as the waiter stops by, taking both their orders and dropping down two glasses of water before he leaves, obviously in a rush to get away from them as more people filter into the restaurant. “I did tell him about how you insulted the Hulk.”

Louis pauses, glass half raised to his mouth. He cocks an eyebrow at Zayn, because he didn’t insult the Hulk. He stated facts. Bruce Banner is fine, the Hulk is fine, but neither of them are Tony Stark. Hopefully Zayn’s teaching his child to not be so ridiculous that he doesn’t appreciate Tony for what he is, the absolute best thing to ever happen to anyone in the world.

“He said that wasn’t very nice of you, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Louis mutters, tilting up his chin and taking a drink. Zayn laughs at him, looking far too pleased with himself. “I’m going to give him a pass, though, since he’s young and his favorite is Thor. So obviously he has some taste, he’s just too young to realize what he’s saying.”

“He’s a very opinionated boy, takes after his mother in that respect, so I’m sure the two of you would argue all day about this.”

“I wouldn’t argue with a child,” Louis says and Zayn raises an eyebrow at him. He wouldn’t. “I would help guide him to a path that gives him the right answer.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Zayn mutters quietly. “And what about you, what’d you end up doing with the rest of your weekend?”

“I stayed in bed, like a normal person,” Louis tells him. “I don’t know, I don’t really do much with my time. I sleep, I eat, I work, and I do all those necessary things but not much else. Unless you count going to the bakery to get as many free goodies as I can.”

“So that’s your hobby, is it?”

“Aside from sleeping, yes.”

“Well,” Zayn says, carefully unfolding his napkin in front of him. “Maybe I could be your new hobby.”

Louis blinks, trying to gauge the look on Zayn’s face. He seems serious, like he wants Louis to take him up on that offer. And wow. His cheeks are bright red, he’s sure of it. And he knows that Zayn can see it, if the smug grin on his face is anything to go by. Louis is almost envious of him, envious of the way he can do those things to Louis, the things he hasn’t been able to do for Zayn. Not yet anyway. But maybe he can. Maybe he could if he keeps Zayn around, if he takes a…special interest in him like Zayn’s asking him to.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” Louis says and Zayn smiles at him.

“I hope you do,” he mumbles.

++++

The air outside is crisp when they finally leave the restaurant. Winter is creeping up on them, maybe Louis tug his jacket tighter to his body. Zayn seems fine, hands hanging freely at his sides as they walk through the park towards the train. It’s the opposite direction of the line that Zayn needs, the one that’ll take him to Oaktown. Louis isn’t going to say anything. He’s not going to ruin this moment for himself.

Dinner was nice, more than nice. The food was good and the conversation even better. Zayn’s funny and smart and a little bit of a nerd, in the best way possible. They have a lot in common, more than Louis would have imagined he’d share with a boy that beautiful.

“Are you going to miss your train?” Louis asks, looking at Zayn carefully as they approach the train station. The trains not there yet and he’s grateful, happy to know that he still has a bit of time left.

“No, mine doesn’t come for another half hour. I’ll be fine,” Zayn says, smiling at Louis. “Figured I should walk you to yours, give myself something to do, make sure you don’t get lost or anything.”

“Sure you’re not going to sneak on board and fall asleep so you can crash at my place again?”

Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid not. Maybe next time, though.”

“Next time?” Louis asks, trying not to look too hopeful and excited.

“Yeah, I figure you owe me this time.”

“I owe you?”

“Yeah, you feed me, then I fed you, and now it’s your turn again.”

“Ah,” Louis mumbles, nodding. “So we’re going out for favors now?”

“We can go out for any reason you’d like,” Zayn says. “Still doesn’t change the fact you owe me dinner.”

Louis smiles at that, biting down on his bottom lip. Zayn shrugs unapologetically, looking far too pleased with himself, like he’s smoother than butter with the way he’s talking, roping Louis into a second – third? – date.

There’s a sound in the distance, a rumble of the train on the tracks. Louis frowns in the distance, sighing as he accepts his fate. The nights over and he has to say goodbye.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Louis mumbles, turning back to look at Zayn. “I’ll find some place nice to go next time. Much nicer than what you picked.”

“Should I wait by the phone?”

“Oh definitely,” Louis tells him, grinning. He holds his arms out and steps forward, figuring that they’ve reached the point in their relationship when he can hug Zayn goodbye. Zayn reaches out to pull him in and there’s a moment of hesitation where they struggle to figure out where to put their heads and it’s when Louis ducks his head to the side, trying not to knock heads with Zayn that Zayn’s lips press against the corner of his mouth.

Louis stills and breathes out, the vibrations of the train on the tracks moving from his toes, up his legs and into his heart, shaking him at his core. Zayn keeps his lips there for a moment, pulling away slowly and smiling at Louis.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He offers Louis a wave before he takes a step back and turns, disappearing. Louis stares at his retreating figure until the train behind him blows its horn, signaling for him to get on.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [tumblr](http://www.alnimawrites.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me about this :).


End file.
